I Mustn't Be Wicked
by TrebledWriter
Summary: Elphaba is in Southstairs, when Morrible invites her for a "lesson". Based on a chapter from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Rated for blood and mentions of torture. One-shot.


**Hullo! I was reading _Harry Potter and the Order of the__ Phoenix _(great series btw) and this plot bunny popped into my head and wouldn't quit. This is based on the _Detention with Dolores _chapter. **

**NO SPOILERS I SWEAR (FROM HARRY POTTER!)**

**WARNING: BLOOD AND MENTIONS OF TORTURE**

**Disclaimer: I own none of Wicked or Harry Potter.**

* * *

The sun set over the eastern hills of Oz, bathing the skies in orange and pink. Luscious dinners were being enjoyed by families. Everyone was happy.

Well...almost everyone.

The dark and gloomy walls were all Elphaba could see as she sat in her cell in Southstairs prison. She curled into a corner, pulling her knees to her chest. Her back burned with the pain of the guard's whips.

"Witch." A guard snarled in a tone so dark and low that Elphaba flinched slightly.

"What?" She whispered.

"Madame Morrible wishes to see you." He jammed a key into the cell door and turned it until he heard a satisfying _click. _The door swung open and he marched in. Roughly grabbing her wrist, he yanked her to her feet and dragged her out of the cell. They climbed the stairs until their feet hit the green tile floor of the throne room. The low light of the sunset illuminated the room, the green and orange creating a sort of hazy feel. Elphaba shielded her eyes, having been sequestered in the dark for so long, the bright sun burnt her chocolate orbs.

"Ah there she is. Our little guest of honor." Morrible said in a sickly sweet voice. "Dismissed Arlo." She finished, gesturing to the guard, who saluted and left.

"Come. Sit." Morrible said, pointing to a small table, on which a piece of paper and a black quill rested, and a wooden chair next to it.

"What is this?" Elphaba growled, rooted to the spot.

"A lesson." Morrible said nonchalantly.

"Why should I trust you?" Elphaba asked.

"I don't bite. And this won't hurt." Morrible replied.

Elphaba, against her better judgement, sat in the chair.

"Pick up the quill." Morrible encouraged, and Elphaba's slim green hand picked up the black writing utensil. She looked at Morrible with a questioning look.

"Write _I mustn't be wicked._" Morrible smirked, and Elphaba looked at her incredulously.

"Do it." The old woman said in a dark tone, staring down the emerald witch, who returned the look.

"DO IT!" Morrible screamed, and the chair shook and shocked Elphaba with electricity.

Elphaba hated herself for it, but she scrawled _I mustn't be wicked _onto the paper. To her surprise, the ink was a dark crimson, instead of the presumed black. A sharp pain pierced her hand. Her gaze locked on the green hand clutching the quill, and the phrase was etched into the back of her hand, then disappeared a second later.

"What...?" She inquired, dumbfounded.

"Keep going." Morrible snapped.

_It went on like this for hours, and the hours turned to days. _

"When can I stop?" Elphaba asked, after writing the phrase for the millionth time it felt.

"The message really has to 'sink in'." Morrible said in a soft voice. Elphaba glanced back at her hand, where the message was written very faintly in red. She realized that it was a scar now, forever engraved into the green flesh.

_After two more days of writing, Elphaba finally was able to be finished._

Arlo the guard threw her, literally threw her, back into her cell in the dark. Elphaba landed with a _thump_ on the floor of the cell, but made no movement or noise. Arlo slammed the door, snickering as he walked away, his heavy footsteps fading.

Elphaba sat up and leaned up against the wall. Even in the dark, she could make out the loopy letters on the back of her hand, along with the dried blood on her wrist.

"I mustn't be wicked." She whispered, choking back tears.

"I mustn't be wicked." She said again, and again, into the night. Elphaba's head dropped and she thought of everyone she had disappointed.

_Nessa..._

_Doctor Dillamond... _

_Mama..._

At the thought of Melena, Elphaba finally cracked. The stone walls around her heart shattered.

"I'm so sorry...Mama..." Elphaba whispered into the darkness. A single tear slid its way down her green cheek and landed on the floor. It was the first of many. Elphaba sobbed silently until she fell asleep, but the last thing she saw was the back of her hand.

_I mustn't be wicked._

* * *

**So, whatcha t****hink? It's a little different than what I usually write, but hey! It's good to try new things! In my first imagining of this, Elphaba died at the end! Aren't you I didn't do that? **

**THE GREG AWARDS ARE OUT! MAKE SURE YOU VOTE ON NELLYTHEACTRESSES'S PROFILE! Until next time, review my friends!**


End file.
